Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sierra Leone and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Chris & Cosey to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Suburban Knight,
The Durutti Column,
The Searchers,
The Tremeloes,
Brass Construction,
Jeff Mills,
Drexciya,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brand Nubian,
Circle Jerks,
EPMD,
Pagans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Smog,
Nik Kershaw,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Music Machine,
Slave,
Unrelated Segments,
Yusef Lateef,
The Moody Blues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Swans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Connie Case,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mars,
Peter and Kerry,
F. McDonald,
Mo-Dettes,
The Misunderstood,
E-Dancer,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang of Four,
Deepchord,
8 Eyed Spy,
Little Man,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Names,
June of 44,
the Association,
Funkadelic,
Amazonics,
Arcadia,
Delta 5,
Juan Atkins,
Silicon Teens,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lalo Schifrin,
Danielle Patucci,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dead Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
Japan,
Cheater Slicks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brick,
Eric Copeland,
Technova,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.